


Meant For Us

by kangelique



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Gen, POV First Person, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 22:39:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15738750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kangelique/pseuds/kangelique
Summary: Killian learns to play guitar and sings "Say you won't let go" to Emma





	Meant For Us

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like it! This has been on my mind to write for a while so I'm glad it finally sparked to life

**Meant For us:**

He mentioned it first over dinner. I was calling for Henry to hurry up and come down because his pasta was getting cold, and Killian was secretly trying to eat a pop-tart behind my back, thinking I wouldn't hear the peel of the wrapper or notice the way he was adorably trying to get it into his mouth before Henry came down and finally caught him red-handed after weeks of him continuously eating the sweet treat when he, and I quote, had said " _It's not bloody healthy''_   and yet there he was and there I was, humoring him because I liked to watch him hurriedly stuff it in and then freeze when the footsteps became apparent on the stairs, quickly moving to hide the silver evidence in his back pocket as I shot him a look and he smiled sheepishly when I went over to clean his ever present dark stubble of the leftover crumbs that clung there.

The three of us finally sat down once Henry appeared, and I licked my lips on the sweet taste his kiss had deliciously passed on before moving to get a forkful off my plate. It was normal, and it was quiet for a few minutes with the only audible sounds were of us chewing and metal slightly clattering. Then the conversation began its easy flow out like it did every evening when we ate together. I felt happy, I felt light. And then his question surprised me so much that I actually stopped eating and Henry froze in his chair too. The ' What if ' lingered in the air around us. A beat passed where we just stared back and he rose an eyebrow as if to say ' _What, it's not that impossible'_ until Henry broke the silence with a ' _Cool, Killian_ ' and Killian reached over to clap him on the shoulder, turning to me ' _See? the boy agrees'_. I blinked out of my trance and said ' _Yeah, sure, if you want to'_.

* * *

 

I didn't think he was being serious when he mentioned it, but when he came back home with a real guitar in his hand and its old worn case slumped under his other arm, it was unexpected. He had a huge grin on his face when I came to meet him at the door, and he excitedly told me the story of how the idea had sparked up a few weeks ago and then he'd decided to put action into it and found a musical instrumental shop among the little shops in our town, saw it, bought it, and was now the owner of it. Neither Henry or me knew the first thing about holding it, or how to play it, or what the hell we were supposed to do to get actual music out of of it, but that didn't deter him. He simply asked Henry to put on a beginner's tutorial for him on Youtube, and he was so shocked by his asking to get into modern technology use that he quickly pulled out a chair and set it on his phone.

We stayed together in the kitchen.

I quietly washed the dishes while he patiently listened to the person speaking in the video. I sneaked glances at him now and then and saw how truly intent and concentrated he was on what they were saying. They talked about chords, and what A and B were, the right way to strum through the strings, and the precise way you were supposed to settle it between your hands as he just sat there, silently gathering the information as one video ended and he moved on to another.

It was late by the time I finally stood up from the table with the empty mug of coffee in between my hands, clock reading 11:25 PM, and he was still watching the videos, now straddling the guitar on his lap as he gently picked at the strings and continued his silent listening like the past four hours--a break in between those hours for our late Friday dinner.

"Killian," I whispered, house completely silent and only the phone's screen bringing light into the dark room. "let's go to bed."

He immediately paused the video and turned it off, leaving us in a beautiful blackness as I watched his dark silhouette stand up from his seat, setting the guitar back in its case, managing only with one careful hand and then extending that same hand out to me, fingers slipping into his as he gently tugged me forward and whispered, "Alright, love, let's go to bed."

Which, of course, ended up with him playing me more perfectly and with a better practice compared to what he was trying to learn.

* * *

 

He got frustrated the first few attempts.

It wasn't easy.

With only one hand, he had to figure out a way to make it work properly with his hook and that of course brought a lot of onset grunts of annoyance, tested patience, and slumped sighs as day by day he took an hour at the kitchen--his favorite place to sit down for it--and tried to find a way to play the chord without breaking the string in the process.

He was silently determined even when one of the strings popped and he had to take it to get it fixed, coming back when the guitar was rendered useless without it and not paying attention to the empty case for days until I came back home from my shift one Monday afternoon and saw that there was a shiny new replacement sitting at the kitchen table, bright and polished in its fine wood.

He tried to be more cautious with this one, eventually learning how to properly hold it against his chest and strum the first chord lightly with his pick without breaking any strings this time as he learned how to manage his pointy hook with it while also putting it to something of use. A wide smile erupted all over his face when the first sound of what would soon be music filled the air and echoed into the four walls of our kitchen while I watched him strum again, this time with more confidence that brought it on louder as he laughed in delight to himself and then fell onto bed, happy for the little accomplishment he'd finally gotten.

I was proud for his perseverance and I made that very clear with the sweet and slow kisses I provided him with once I was sitting atop his chest.

There, was when he first whispered me the lyrics,

 

_"I met you in the dark, you lit me up_

_You made me feel as though I was enough_

_We danced the night away, we drank too much"_

 

I smiled against his lips and whispered him the lyrics that for sure didn't come next but I was too lost in his smooth voice to care, 

 

" _I knew I loved you then_

_But you'd never know_

_Cause I played it cool when I was scared of letting go_

_I know I needed you_

_But I never showed_

_But I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old"_

He grinned. "You know, that doesn't actually come next."

I grinned back. "No, but it's true. I do love you."

"Aye, love. So do I."

Another sweet, slow kiss. Another disregarded item of clothing.

His arm snaked around my waist, pulling me back down to capture his open mouth, but I gripped his shoulders, raising an eyebrow.

"When did you hear that song?"

He smirked. "It was in your secret playlist."

* * *

 

A month passed with him perfecting every chord there was to play, until one Saturday in the chilly November, I recognized the familiar strums to words we whispered not too long ago. I was watching Netflix in the living room and he was in his usual spot at the kitchen table when it reached my ears, and I paused the movie, stilling on the couch. My eyes closed when the first notes of the song began giving it its earnest rhythm through the chords he slowly began to strum until I could hear how he became sure of himself and began to strum the chords louder and louder, rising up and falling back down in accordance to the lyrics as they quickly replayed through my head and I added my mental voice to his outside murmurs.

Because he was murmuring.

I quietly rose up from the couch and padded my way to the kitchen, stopping at the entrance to hear what he was saying under his breath as he continued strumming more clearly. And then I found myself murmuring the same words he was under my breath too as we both followed the song's pace to clash our quiet murmurings together until they simply became one voice from two.

 

_"I'm gonna love you ti'll_

_My lungs give out_

_I promise ti'll death we part like in our vows_

_So I wrote this song for you, now everybody knows_

_Finally it's just you and me ti'll we're grey and old_

_Just say you won't let go_

_Just say you won't let go"_

 

 Then he suddenly switched chords to one's my brain didn't immediately recognize, and I saw the smile on his face when he began singing the lyrics of his choice to me.

 

_"When you looked over your shoulder_

_For a minute, I forger that I'm older_

_I wanna dance with you right now_

_And I swear that everyday I'll get better_

_You made me feel this way somehow..."_

 

Tear welled up in my eyes, and he paused to breathe in and then continuing louder and much more prominent.

 

_"I'm so in love with you_

_And I hope you know_

_Darling your love is more than worth its weight in gold_

_We've come so far my dear_

_Look how we've grown_

_And I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old_

_Just say you won't let go_

_Just say you won't let go..."_

 

He stops and there's no need for clarification on my part, because he knows.

* * *

 

He only sings to me when it's just the two of us. But he plays his guitar often and even Henry has gotten interested and asked to be given lessons by the master. They sit down one hour at the kitchen table everyday, and I watch him patiently guide him on what had once been a challenge for him, and I smile when Henry strums his first well chord and Killian urges him to the next.

He also only sings to me that song in private when it's just the two of us. One day he proudly claims that it's our song, and I laugh agreeing.

Today is one of those days when it's just the two of us. Henry is at Regina's for an overnight stay, and we are alone. Today is one of those days when it's just the two of us in private. And it's where our song comes most alive, as we sit cross-legged on the floor of our living room, complete darkness around us except for the dimly lit light from the small lamp on the coffee table next to the couch, his back pressed to the furniture while I'm facing him, and the night's dead quiet with only the crickets still chirping, is when he finally closes his eyes and makes me get lost in his voice. 

When he finishes, we stay in silence. And then I watch him open his mouth to whisper, "Say you won't let go, Emma."

And I make sure to look him in the eyes when I whisper back, "I won't let go, Killian."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Song: Say you won't let go  
> By: James Arthur


End file.
